Page 40 of Betting on the Best Friend
Ruby gives a slow nod. “I also thought we were doing the double-date thing.”
“If it helps you, sure. Sydney likes you, and she’d be happy to do it again, but she and I are good to hang on our own.”
Ruby pulls a DVD off the shelf. “No, that’s good. Do that.”
“Cool. But now you have to tutor me on this PDA,” I say. “One-on-one instruction, then I take the test on my own.” Am I really going to turn my Sexy Librarian into a “Hot for Teacher” fantasy? I’m a dog, but maybe it’s not objectification if half of what makes Ruby sexy is her brain?
Whatever. She’s hot. It is what it is.
“Sure, that works,” Ruby says. “Here’s your lesson: find more ways to touch Sydney. Congratulations, you’ve graduated.”
She turns to bring the movie to the hold shelf, and I go with her. “What kind of touch? I don’t want her to feel like I’m being handsy. Handsy is bad, right?”
“It’s only handsy if we don’t like a guy. Otherwise, it’s flirting.”
“Not confusing at all,” I say.
“I hear your sarcasm, and I do not pity you. It’s obvious if you’re reading the signals.”
I will need a hands-on demonstration, obviously. “How do I know if I’m reading them right?”
“Charlie, come on. Guys who aren’t seeing rejection signals are just ignoring rejection signals. If you’re looking for them, you’ll see any she sends.”
“I don’t want to mess it up, and you’ve got me all in my head now. You better give me specifics. What if I put my hand on her back, and she doesn’t do anything? Is that a signal to keep it there or to drop it?”
She looks around and then jerks her head at the door next to our event room. “In there.”
I follow her to either the big closet or small room, depending on your perspective. Can’t wait to see why Ruby needs privacy for this.
When we’re almost to the door, she says, “Pretend I’m Sydney and that’s a restaurant door.”
I will definitely not pretend she’s Sydney. I move ahead of her to open it, placing my hand at the small of her back to usher her in. The contact increases my awareness of her by a factor of ten. Her sweater is as soft as it looks, but I didn’t expect to feel the warmth of her skin through it.
She shuts the door behind us. “That was good. Do that a lot.”
“Follow her around with my hand on her back. On it.”
“Perfect, Charles. That won’t be disturbing at all.”
“So, wrong signal?”
“In all seriousness, look for small opportunities like that. A good test is if you touched me that way here at work, would anyone think twice about it? If they wouldn’t, you’re being too subtle. If they would, then you’re probably okay.”
“Got it. Think about touching you inappropriately at work, and I’m on the right track.”
Her mouth falls open the tiniest bit, like she can’t believe I just said that. Maybe I can’t either, but when she laughs a second later, I’m glad I did.
“And this is why we’re having this conversation in the closet,” she says, smiling.
She rolls her eyes, knowing I understood her meaning all along. “Anyway, when we walked in here, if I didn’t want you touching me, I would have gotten tense, sped up, or found a reason to get away from your hand.”
Part of me would like to give her the lightest of shakes and ask,Do you honestly think I don’t know that?But if Ruby wants to help me tackle step four on my list—practice intentional connection—I just need to figure out if it’s better to be the best or worst student ever.
“What if I check in with Sydney every time I touch her? Maybe get right up in her face, give her intense eye contact, and say ‘did you like that’ very loud and slow?”
“She’ll love it. Lets her know right away that you’re deranged.”
This time I let her see my smirk. “Everything is fine with me and Sydney.”
